


stuck in a cupboard

by largoindminor



Series: wincest love week 2015 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sam is 17, Underage - Freeform, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/largoindminor/pseuds/largoindminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sam and dean get stuck in a tight spot during a case</p>
            </blockquote>





	stuck in a cupboard

**Author's Note:**

> wincest love week day 3

It’s an easy hunt, vengeful spirit, nice and simple. Had to be or dad would have freaked about Sam and Dean taking care of it on their own. Dean’s basically a man now at twenty-one but Sam’s still seventeen and dad’s still a little (ridiculously) over protective. Sam knows Dean won’t let anything bad happen to him, and he’s right of course, the spirit’s dispatched without anyone getting hurt. They break back into the bed and breakfast just before dawn to return the few _non-_ haunted pieces of artwork they took.

“Did you see her Sam? The way she just- poof, gone. We make a pretty good team, you know?

Dean’s still riding high from the victory and although Sam’s less enthusiastic about the hunting life, he has to admit if _was_ pretty fun. “Right? Man thought she was gonna grab you for a – shhh. You hear that?” There’s the sound of footsteps approaching the room. “Shit.”

“Shit, come on, in here,” Dean grabs the back of Sam’s jacket and jerks him backwards into a closet right before a man and woman burst through the door. Dean shoves Sam behind him and peaks out through the crack around the door. “Shit, Sam,” he whispers, “Just a coulpla drunks. Looks like… whoa, looks like they’re, uh, going at it.” Dean sounds amused and Sam just laughs at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Dude, this closet is _small,”_ Sam whispers back, because, hell, it’s barely even big enough for one of them to his in and no matter how tight he squeezes himself to the back wall, they’re basically on top of each other. Damn old houses.

There’s noises coming from the couple in the room, now, loud slurping and it’s not hard to figure out what they’re doing. Deep voice comes muffled through the closet doors, _God baby you suck me off so good. Gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours._

And yeah. Well. Sam tries to get himself under control but hell, he’s only seventeen and there’s a god damn live sex show going on about six feet from him. He’s too warm and cramped and Dean’s a solid wall of heat pressed flush against him and _damn,_ fuck these old houses. Minutes feel like an awkward never ending eternity, Sam silently praying for this to end, or for the spirit to come back and kill them all, anything to get this over with. They’re getting ready to fuck now, the woman’s talking, moaning about his big cock filling her up and he’s talking her how nice and wet her tight pussy feels, and _christ_.

Dean’s gone still, stopped moving a while ago, no telling how long it’s been, and Sam can’t tell if he’s still watching or not but his breathing’s a little erratic, and when Sam turns a little, tries to shift his body _somehow_ to get some space between them, Dean pushes back a little at the same time and shudders, and ok, what the _fuck_ was that about?

Sam’s mortified to realize he’s half hard. Half hard and sure Dean felt it against his back side when they shifted, but he can’t fucking help it because the man right outside the door is groaning like his fucking life depends on it. He bites his lip and thinks of something else, anything else. SAT questions. The periodic table. Fight techniques. Sparring. Dean flipping him onto his back and pinning him down.

_Wait._

Dean’s hips are moving a little now, small aborted movements and Sam’s starting to freak because it’s almost like Dean’s _trying_ to get him hard and then Dean’s head drops back and hits Sam square in the chest, eyes closed, and says “Sammy” in a way Sam’s never heard his voice before, gravel rough and desperate and shy and sinful all at the same time and Sam abandons any hope of getting himself under control.

“Fuck, Dean.. I-” falls from his lips, quiet and breathy and all of a sudden whatever’s going on in the room outside fades away because Dean _turns around_ , a feat Sam would have said was impossible in the tiny space, and suddenly they’re face to face. Cock to cock, and _shit_ Sam’s half hard dick is promoted to _fully rock hard_ in about 0.3 seconds because Dean’s is too and it’s pressed into his hip, grinding into him, thick and insistent.

Whatever else he was going to say _(I’m sorry? I love you?_ What?) is swallowed up by Dean when he leans in and kisses Sam hard on the mouth, tongue and teeth pressing and seeking and Sam opens right up for him like it’s perfectly normal, like they do this all the time, because he’s going to come in about half a minute and the time to talk about how fucked up this is is _after_ that happens.

“Shit, Sammy. _Baby.”_ Dean mumbles into his lips and that’s it, times up, Sam goes off like a rocket, creaming his shorts and thank god for Dean’s lips still being over his because otherwise he would have screamed loud enough to disturb the whole house.

He’s still trembling, his dick still half interested in what’s going on, still blurting out that last of his release when Dean _whines,_ high and strangled like a wounded animal, and comes in his jeans.

Dean’s sticky forehead drops to Sam’s and their both panting the same humid air. The couple in the room is still going at it, sounds like they will be for a while, actually, and Sam’s already starting to panic, because, well, _what the hell just happened_?

“Shh,” Dean says and Sam’s about to whisper back that he didn’t say anything, but Dean continues, “you’re thinking too loud. Don’t freak out.” Dean ran a hand through Sam’s sweaty hair and down his back and Sam feels surprisingly soothed by Dean’s words and the small gesture. They’re going to have to talk about this later, and they’ll probably _both_ freak out a little, but right now, he feels kind of ok.


End file.
